


and oh, poor atlas

by gaygentdanvers



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Redemption, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-06-01 03:38:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15134300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaygentdanvers/pseuds/gaygentdanvers
Summary: The first time Alex sees her again after the whole Reign debacle, it's two in the morning and Samantha Arias is standing in her apartment, tracking blood across her bathroom floor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> me @ the cw: let samantha arias be superwoman, you cowards!
> 
> canon-divergent things: the way alex found out about sam being reign, sam's separation from reign, alex becoming director, winn and j'onn leaving, etc.
> 
> flashbacks are non-linear.

and oh, poor atlas  
the world's a beast of a burden  
you've been holding on a long time  
  
— _what the water gave me,_ florence + the machine.  
  


* * *

 

After the chaos with the Worldkillers comes to an end, J’onn tells her to take a break. She hasn’t had one since being recruited, and wasting the amount of vacation days that have piled up should, according to Kara, be illegal.  
  
  
  
“Consider it an order, Agent Danvers,” he says, after she stubbornly attempts to argue against the suggestion. “I don’t want to see you step foot in the DEO for three weeks unless it’s a life or death situation. And no working from home, either.”  
  
  
  
The thing about staying away from the DEO is that Alex doesn’t really know _how._ It’s why her apartment is so barren, why she keeps her gun and badge on her at all times, even while off-duty.  After years of working under J’onn at the DEO, she can’t imagine taking a day off willingly, much less three whole weeks.  
  
  
  
And _now—_  
  
  
  
Now she needs the distraction more than ever, because while Reign was defeated months ago, the grief still sits heavy in her chest like a rock. It eats her from the inside out, only sometimes quelled by the burn of whiskey down her throat but more often than not by the feeling she gets when she’s on a mission and takes down another alien with her new gun.  
  
  
  
She needs the DEO like she needs air, and she tells J’onn just as much.  
  
  
  
“That’s what makes you my best agent,” he muses, cracking a fond smile before shooting her another stern look and following up with, “But even my best agent needs a break. Go home, Agent Danvers, before I make it a whole month.”  
  
  
  
Alex knows that when he says she needs a break, he isn’t only talking about work. She’s not surprised that J’onn can see right through her — even without reading her mind, he knows her better than she knows herself, sometimes.  
  
  
  
Which is why she's not surprised when he steps forward and pulls her into a hug, either.  
  
  
  
She only gives herself a brief moment to melt into it before before begrudgingly mounting her bike and riding off.

   
  


* * *

  
  
  
Sam and Ruby are gone, that much Alex knows for sure.  
  
  
  
Outside of National City, holed up in Lex’s mansion because staying in the house they lived in before… well, _before_ , is too painful.  
  
  
  
Alex tries not to think about them too much, especially because Sam has since gone radio silent with everyone from the DEO. It’s hard to stop her mind from wandering though, and that’s when she often lets the dam break.  
  
  
  
[The last conversation they'd have before their final goodbye would go something like this:  
  
  
  
Alex would walk into the medbay to see Ruby sitting cross-legged on her mom’s bed, tongue sticking out as she concentrated on finishing the complex handshake that Sam was trying to teach her. Ruby would turn around when she knocks on the door, and then Alex would make some excuse about a certain blonde, caped hero wanting to hangout with her, and the almost-teenager would be off Sam’s bed and out of the room before the sentence even fully left her mouth.   
  
  
  
“Nice to know where her priorities lie,” Sam would joke. But there'd be no real malice there, only an overwhelming, sparkling affection for her daughter, the kind that would make Alex’s chest ache with longing.  
  
  
  
Alex would let out an awkward laugh that would sound too forced to her own ears, "Yeah, right?"  
  
  
  
She would've had a speech prepared in her head, before she came in. But then Sam would look at her like _that_ , with the little wrinkle in the middle of her brows that Alex has, over time, been able to recognize as teetering between concerned and nervous, gazing at her so intensely that for a moment she wouldn’t be able to remember why she had wanted to speak to Sam alone in the first place.  
  
  
  
“Alex?”  
  
  
  
She’d snap out of it, shaking her head a bit as though it would lift the fog from her brain as Sam stared at her. “You said wanted to talk earlier,” she’d remind her, then pause for a moment before asking, “Is everything okay?”  
  
  
  
And nothing about the situation would be okay, but Alex would nod her head anyways.“Yeah, no, of course. It’s just…”  
  
  
  
She would try to say a lot of things, in that moment.  
  
  
  
She would try to say _please don’t go._ She would try to say _I need you here._ She would try to say _I love you, and I don’t know what I’ll do if you leave.  
  
  
_  
She would try to say a lot of things, but the words would get caught in her throat somewhere, and what would come out of her mouth instead would be, “J’onn says you’re cleared. Congratulations, you’re free to leave tomorrow morning.”  
  
  
  
Later, after locking herself away from prying eyes inside her lab, she would cry until her face hurt and her throat burned with the words she didn’t say, wondering why this felt so much like a breakup when their relationship had hardly had a chance to even really start.  
  
  
  
It would be hard after this, to cry anymore. Her energy had been tapped long before this new heartache. Because yes, Alex had survived the Worldkillers, but only in tatters. She cannot pretend otherwise.]  
  
  
  
Regardless, she tries to do right by J’onn and take a break from everything. Her days fall back into the kind of routine they lost while Reign was out tormenting the city: sleep, eat, exercise, repeat, and she finds she doesn’t mind it as much as she thought she would.  
  
  
  
But after the first few days, the stillness of her apartment becomes suffocating.  
  
  
  
The DEO won’t tell her anything while she’s gone. Neither will Winn, Alex finds out only two days into her mandatory vacation, leading her to wonder just how big of a threat J’onn had to make to keep _him_ quiet, of all people.  
  
  
  
She’s left completely out of the loop, which only causes her to feel more stir-crazy and homesick — from her _real_ home, the DEO, not her apartment.  
  
  
  
There are nights when she lays awake in her giant bed, listening to the traffic outside her window and the static hum from the TV, and thinking she might go crazy from it. The silence itself could very well be deafening, and she tosses and turns the whole night until her alarm clock goes off and she drags herself out of bed.  
  
  
  
She starts jogging in the mornings again, partially to maintain the routine outside of work and partially because she’d gotten behind on cardio after her tibia fracture. She takes long, meandering runs, switching it up every other day and mapping out new routes. Works to reacquaint herself with the outskirts of National City and tries to convince herself that it’s not as disappointing as it is when she doesn’t find what she’s unconsciously looking for in back alleys and hidden roads.  
  
  
  
Sometimes she runs through the park, casting a lingering glance towards the fried food truck that she and Sam stopped at briefly on their unofficial-first-date.  
  
  
  
[A deep, deep ache always spreads through her chest when she thinks about it, but it only pushes her to run faster, the burning in her legs distracting her from feeling anything else.]  
  
  
  
Other times she’ll run through quiet neighborhoods, past Sam and Ruby’s old house. She nearly trips over her own feet the first time she sees the _For Sale_ sign out front, even though she already knew that they no longer lived there. It’s still a shock though, a sort of finalization, and she blames the tears stinging her eyes on the frigid wind rushing past as she jogs away.  
  
  
  
Most of the time, she’ll end up ditching her feet for her bike, following the coordinates Lena had given her all those months ago to Lex’s mansion. It’s still invisible, hidden away from the world and all its occupants, but she still knows it’s there.  
  
  
  
Her fingers itch to punch in the passcode, to drive right up and kick the door down with all the force she can muster.  
  
  
  
Instead, she revs up her motorcycle and drives away without looking back, each time.

  
 

* * *

 _  
  
  
Long, strong arms wind tightly around her torso from behind, a chin coming to rest on her shoulder as heat rushes to her face against her will.  
__  
  
  
__“Sam?”  
  
  
  
__She feels the CFO grin against her cheek, sees the corners of dark red lips lifting in her peripheral, and hears the smile in Sam’s voice against her ear.  
  
  
  
__“God, you have_ no _idea what it was like to lose every game of charades to Kara and Lena.”  
  
  
  
__Alex laughs. It sounds too breathless, Sam's arms still wrapped around her midsection, and she wonders if the other woman realizes just what she's doing to her. “Not too fun, huh?”  
  
  
  
__"Try exhausting.”  
  
  
  
__She laughs again, this time at Sam’s expression. She's practically pouting, brown eyes wide and exasperated. “Well,” Alex says, patting her on the arm. “It’s a good thing I didn't have to work late this time, then.”  
  
  
  
Sam hums in agreement. "Mhm. I’ve missed you,” she says.  
  
  
  
Alex tries to shrug off the warmth that erupts in her chest from the honesty of the statement, but it wraps itself securely around her heart. "Yeah?"  
  
  
  
"Yeah." _ _  
  
  
  
_

* * *

  
  
  
It’s nine o'clock in the morning on a Thursday and Alex is pouring her third cup of coffee when Kara says, “I talked to Lena today.”  
  
  
  
The statement itself is harmless — normal, even, because Alex can't quite remember a time after Kara met Lena that they went more than 24 hours without talking. It's the fact that Kara is bringing it up at all that Alex freezes in her spot in the kitchen, still holding the coffee in mid-air as her sister’s words sink in.  
  
  
  
Lena, who’s been staying with Sam and Ruby at Lex’s mansion for the past three months since Reign.  
  
  
  
Lena, who knows more about what’s going on with Sam than anyone else, including the DEO, which then includes Alex by default.  
  
  
  
The trickle of dread that makes its way through her veins quickly increases until it's a full blown panic. She feels sick to her stomach as she sets the coffee pot down and leans against the counter for support, because Kara speaking to Lena and telling _Alex_ about it could only mean—  
  
  
  
“Did something happen?” she hears herself ask, voice sounding too loud and almost foreign to her own ears. Her panic must show clearly on her face, because Kara frowns as she stands up, moving towards her.  
  
  
  
“Sam and Ruby are okay,” she assures her, and all at once Alex feels the worry drain out of her, leaving only nerves behind in its wake. If it's not bad news, that means it must be something else, and Alex isn't quite sure she's ready to hear it.  
  
  
  
She asks anyway.  
  
  
  
“What is it? What did Lena say?”  
  
  
  
Kara stares at her. There's the crinkle between her brows that Alex knows all too well, and her arms are crossed over her chest, lips pursed.  
  
  
  
Alex’s next word comes out sounding more like a warning. “Kara…”  
  
  
  
“She wants to save people, Alex.”   
  
  
  
She had expected this, of course — Sam is a mother, she’s always had a protective streak in her, one that had only intensified in light of recent events.  
  
  
  
Before the radio silence on her part, before she was discharged from the DEO medbay and Alex saw her for potentially what might've been the last time, she’d talked about the possibility. About wanting to bring _true_ justice to the city — making up for all the damage Reign caused in her body, however she could, by being the hero she thought she would be before the truth of her real destiny had come out.  
  
  
  
So yes, Alex had expected this.  
  
  
  
And yet it still manages to catch her off guard somehow, leaving her struggling for words for a few moments until finally she gasps out, “But she can’t.”  
  
  
  
The reasons _why_ she can’t remain left unsaid, hovering between them in the air. _Because she’ll be a target. Because she has a daughter to care for. Because then I might really lose her.  
  
  
  
_ As if you haven't lost her already, she thinks with a sharp twinge of sadness, before pushing the thought away.  
  
  
  
“I know,” Kara says. Not because she knows Sam can’t go out there, but because she knows it’ll tear Alex to pieces if she does. “But she’s made up her mind, Alex.”

 

* * *

  
  
  
Sam didn’t wake up for a week after they defeated Reign.  
  
  
  
To Alex, it had felt like a lifetime.  
  
  
  
She remembers the grim sight all too well: Sam’s natural tan skin turned ashen, even under the yellow sun lamps above her bed. With her eyes sunken in and lips almost white under her oxygen mask, she looked pale and broken and smaller than Alex had ever seen her before. Motionless, except for the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest; Alex had leaned forward and pressed her shaking hand against it, just to _feel_.  
  
  
  
She had kept it there, fixated on the steady beat of Sam’s heart in her palm, until Kara and Lena walked in with Ruby a few minutes later.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
_“You do know that the party is inside, right?”  
  
  
  
__Alex straightens up from her position leaning over the balcony, looking out over the city. Sam slides the glass door shut and pads over, wine glass in hand._

_  
  
“Yeah, well.” She glances over, an eyebrow raised. “I could ask you the same thing.” _

_  
  
Sam huffs out a short scoff, coming up to lean against the railing beside her, standing too close and not close enough at the same time. Alex swallows past a suddenly dry throat, unable to ignore the warmth of the CFO’s body seeping into her own space. _

_  
  
“Lena’s on her fourth glass of spiked eggnog,” her friend explains with an eye roll. “Trust me, once you've heard her drunkenly sing god-awful renditions of every Christmas song she knows, you'd try to escape it too.” _

_  
  
Alex finds herself chuckling at the mental image. Sam looks over and catches her eye, letting a laugh of her own slip past her lips.   
  
  
_ _  
_ _The sound is so sharp and pleasant that it sends a jolt up Alex’s spine._

 

_“I’ll take your word for it, Arias,” she teases, and Sam laughs again._

 

_She looks away, pushing back against the sudden, desperate urge to kiss her.  
_

  
 

* * *

  
  
  
It takes CatCo Media approximately forty minutes to blow up Sam’s face on every TV and news article in National City. Alex chokes on her beer the first time she sees the big, bold headline: **_Another Super in Town?_  **underneath the frozen image of Sam’s figure, standing tall and proud amid the lingering smoke of a building that had gone up in flames.

 

She’s still wearing Reign’s suit, but it's different now. The Worldkiller’s crest is no longer there, and someone — Lena, or even Winn, maybe — had added in white and gold, making it less intimidating than the all-black attire. There’s a sharp smear of glittering gold paint across her right cheek, and instead of the tight braid Reign had always worn, her hair falls past her shoulders in wide ringlets like Kara's often does, framing her face perfectly.

 

She looks good — amazing, even.

 

She looks just as beautiful as she did the last time Alex saw her.

 

“She’s been asking about you,” Lena tells her the next day at Game Night, as she pours them another glass of scotch.

 

She turns away so the CEO can't see the look on her face. “You know I can’t stop the DEO from going after her now that she’s put herself out there, Lena.”

 

“I think you know that's not why she’s asking.”  
  
  
  
Alex doesn't know what to say to that; she leans over, refilling Lena's glass before returning to the couch.  
  
  
  
It gets harder to avoid, after that.

 **  
  
** With another week to go on her “suspension” — an apt name for it, Alex has decided, much to J’onn’s mild exasperation — she throws herself into training at home. She drags the heavy bag out and pretends like she can feel all her worries melt away with each hit, throwing punch after punch at the bag as the news plays on the TV in the background.  
  
  
  
She’s gotten used to that, since Kara came out as Supergirl. Having the news channel switched on at all times when she’s not at the DEO is almost a necessity at this point, especially after everything that’s happened already.  
  
  
  
It's stopped being as jarring as that first time, hearing the newscasters talk about Sam alongside Kara. Nevertheless, it still fills Alex with an overwhelming sense of dread each time she’s mentioned.  
  
  
  
She turns the TV off and throws another hard punch. 

   
  


* * *

  
  
  
_“Hey, you know, it's not just about the sex.”  
  
  
__  
__“I know.”  
  
  
__  
__“And there’s not anyone-”_ _  
__  
  
  
__“I know.”_ _  
__  
  
  
__“You’re the only-”_ _  
__  
  
  
_ “Alex _. I know.”_ _  
__  
  
  
__She smiles, relieved, and leans up to press a kiss against soft lips. “Right, okay. Good.”  
  
  
  
_

* * *

  
  
  
Alex is run over by a tall, dark-haired woman on her way to the jukebox, beer spilling all down her front when they collide. There’s a muffled, “ _Shit_ , ‘m sorry,” and the woman winces apologetically.  
  
  
  
“Whoa, there,” Alex says, hands shooting out to steady her before she can topple over, then cringing at the feeling of cold beer seeping through her shirt. “It’s… fine.”  
  
  
  
“No, ‘s not,” the woman slurs, frowning deeply. Her hands reach out, cold fingertips grazing Alex’s collarbone as she grips at the soaked fabric. “Your shirt’s all wet.”  
  
  
  
Alex looks up and freezes. For a brief moment, she wonders if her eyes are merely deceiving her, making her see what she wants to— but no, the woman has an almost uncanny resemblance to Sam, and it makes her throat and chest tighten up simultaneously, a chill washing over her.  
  
  
  
The woman starts to tug her forward, towards the restrooms. “Come on, I can help-”  
  
  
  
“Um- no, it’s fine. I- I have to go,” she says, wrenching out of the woman’s grip and whirling around, ignoring the slurred protests that follow her out.

   


* * *

  
  
  
Her balcony door is wide open when she gets home from the bar.

  
  
The federal agent in her kicks in within seconds, and she pulls her gun from its holster as her eyes survey the apartment. The living room is empty and nothing seems to have been broken or stolen — but what catches her eye immediately is the trail of crimson footprints leading towards the bathroom.  
  
  
  
Years of training at the DEO is the only thing that keeps her from dropping her gun when her eyes land on the figure leaning against the sink. She sobers up immediately at the sight of blood staining a torn suit, coating the fingers gripping the edge of the sink and smeared across the tiled floor.  
  
  
  
[She, again, wonders if her eyes are deceiving her, but for the second time tonight, she's wrong.]  
  
  
  
“Sam?” Dropping her gun, her arms reach out without hesitation, ignoring the feeling of warm stickiness as her hand clasps over Sam’s own.  
  
  
  
“It's not mine,” the newly-minted hero assures her before anything else. “But I couldn't let Ruby see me. I couldn't go home like this.”  
  
  
  
And Alex thinks _why come here?_ but reaches for a washcloth anyways. She thinks _I don’t owe you anything_ but says, “It’s okay. You’re okay, Sam.”  
  
  
  
Sam’s eyes are tired. They're red and blotchy and half-closed, and her hands are shaking so badly that she almost misses when she goes to scrub the blood from the creases in her palm. 

  
  
Alex doesn't ask questions, not yet, and Sam doesn't provide answers. She only scrubs, blinking owlishly at the pink-tinted water as it goes down the drain and leaving Alex standing awkwardly beside her, not sure if she should say something or not.

 

She doesn't have to.

 

“I’m sorry,” Sam says, looking up from uselessly scrubbing at her suit to look Alex in the eye. Alex doesn’t let anything crack in her demeanor, doesn’t let it show how much Sam being here affects her. “I shouldn't have come here. I have no right to just-”

 

“Hey, no. I told you once that I’d be here for you,” she interrupts without a second thought, “and I meant it.”  
  
  
  
Despite everything, she won't go back on her promise now. Her own problems can wait; Sam is still _Sam_ and Alex refuses to abandon her in a time of need.  
  
  
  
“Right,” Sam says. And then she’s inhaling shakily, eyes darting away. She shakes her head, pinches the bridge of her nose. “No, you’re right. I just…”    
  
  
  
She falters, and for a moment Alex thinks she’s going to apologize again. For leaving, maybe. Or explain why she came _here_ , of all places; why she didn’t choose to go to L-Corp, or to Lena’s penthouse.  
  
  
  
But then Sam rubs the spot above her eyebrow, and the small smile she gives is tired and so sad that Alex thinks she feels a part of her own heart break just at the sight of it. “It’s just been a… a _very_ long night.”   
  
  
  
She takes this as an opportunity to ask, “Do you want to talk about it?” while gesturing to the bloodstained suit.  
  
  
  
When she looks up, Alex swears she sees a flicker of the old Sam. The one that had come to her before, so scared and so, so vulnerable, about her blackouts. The one that had gazed up at her with so much trust that she would find out what was wrong, that they'd figure it out and deal with it together.  
  
  
  
Right now, _this_ Sam reminds Alex a lot of _that_ Sam, once again the panicked, vulnerable woman desperately grasping for some kind of safety net, for someone to tell her everything is going to be okay.

 

Once again finding that sense of security in Alex.

 

“I have all these powers,” she starts, hesitant. “I can fly. I have heat vision. My skin is literally _bulletproof.”_

 

“Yeah, but-”

 

“But I failed to save a woman from bleeding out on the sidewalk today.”  
  
  
  
Sam’s voice cracks and the words hang heavily in the air between them.  
  
  
  
Without thinking, Alex reaches forward and rests her hand on Sam’s forearm in what she hopes is a comforting gesture. It makes her own palm burn at the touch and part of her aches to do something more, to pull Sam into a crushing hug as if doing so could absorb all the sadness and grief from her bones, but she holds herself back from doing so.  
  
  
  
“You can't save everyone,” she says instead.  
  
  
  
It's something she’s told Kara, time and time again. That every loss, every failure, isn't her fault. That just because she has all these powers on Earth doesn't mean she’s a _God;_ she can't save everyone all at once, no matter how badly she wants to.

 

She’s not surprised in the slightest to see that Sam shares the same intense desire.

 

“Maybe you couldn't save that woman, but Ruby will still be proud of you when you go home tonight,” she continues, this time holding Sam’s gaze. “This doesn't make you any less of a hero. Not to her, not to _me_.”  

 

The words come out of her mouth without any thought or hesitation, and she realizes how much she means them. Since Sam started along her path to redemption, Alex has been too focused on the countless scenarios of her getting hurt or captured, of her getting _killed_ , to take a step back and really look at the woman on her TV screen and in the papers.

 

Sam is building a life for herself after Reign. A life of true justice, of protecting the city alongside Kara. Of protecting her _daughter_.  
  
  
  
“I’m sorry,” Sam speaks softly, breaking the silence that had momentarily settled over them. Alex looks up, questioning, and she clarifies. “Not just for tonight. I mean for… everything. I’m sorry.”  
  
  
  
Alex swallows, the action suddenly difficult.  
  
  
  
“You should get some rest,” she says, noticing the way Sam’s eyelids start to slip shut as soon as the suggestion leaves her mouth. “I’ll call Lena and let her and Ruby know you’re okay.”  
  
  
  
“Thank you.” Alex nods and turns to leave, but long, warm fingers wrap around her wrist before she can go. “ _Alex_. I mean it. Thank you.”  
  
  
  
Something snaps in her when she hears Sam say her name like that — like it’s the first breath she’s drawn in ages, like it's the only name she knows in this moment — and a feeling of desperate yearning seeps into her chest, slipping through the cracks in her ribs and making it hard to breathe.  
  
  
  
“You’re welcome, Sam."

   


* * *

  
  
  
It’s coming on three in the morning, and the pot of coffee she’d started after Sam showed up has since gone cold. The apartment is quiet, save for the crackling of the fire and Sam’s heavy breathing as she finally succumbs to her exhaustion.  
  
  
  
It’s only then that Alex finally has time to process the night’s events.  
  
  
  
She hasn’t seen Sam in months.  
  
  
  
Months of wondering how Sam's been since Reign. Months of late nights and early mornings, waking up to a chest that's physically _aching_ with the thought of having to miss her for another day. Then, of hearing whispers and theories about the new hero in National City, of seeing her face on the news and in the paper. Of Alex thinking she caught a glimpse of her down a dark alley or flying through the air somewhere in the night, but never being close enough to be sure.  
  
  
  
More than once, she thought she felt Sam’s gaze on the back of her neck, making her hair stand up and her heart race.

 

Seeing her now — in her apartment, on her _couch_ — throws her off. She thinks mostly that it's not _fair_ , how Sam can have this strong of an effect on her. It's not fair for her to show up after months of nothing and still be able to nearly render her speechless, to send her into a tailspin without warning.

  
  
“Why come here, Sam?” she asks. But Sam is already asleep, so she doesn’t get an answer.  
  
  
  
True to her word, Alex calls Lena, who picks up on the second ring.

 

“Hello, Agent,” she greets formally, and Alex almost rolls her eyes because _really_ , she and Lena have known each other long enough by now that the CEO should feel comfortable addressing her by her first name. But she suppresses the urge, if only because Lena sounds panicked at her call.  
  
  
  
She skips right to the point. “Sam is at my apartment. She was a mess, and she didn't want Ruby to see her like that. I just wanted you two to know she’s alright.”

 

“Sam is with you?” Lena sounds surprised. Alex can't blame her, but her chest tightens anyways.

 

“Yes.”

 

There’s a long pause on the other line. Alex waits patiently, padding over to the kitchen to reheat her mug in the microwave.

 

Then, finally: “How are you?”

 

This time Alex does roll her eyes. Lena is hardly subtle. “I’m coping,” she deadpans, hoping the CEO gets the hint through the phone.

 

She does. “I’ll let Ruby know about Sam. Thank you… We were starting to get worried.”

  
  
“You're welcome. Goodnight, Lena.”

 

“Goodnight, Agent Danvers.”

   


* * *

  
  
  
_“I ran away once,” she says, tracing random patterns onto the bare skin of Sam’s hip. She kisses lazily below her jaw.  
  
  
_

_“Seriously?” Sam asks. Alex hums in affirmation._

_  
  
“I was sixteen, and it was a few weeks after my dad died. I packed up all my stuff, left a note and everything. I only made it to Swan Beach before turning back around.” _

_  
  
_ _“What made you go back?” The question is just a murmur in her ear, low and soft, as though speaking any louder would disrupt the air of calm settled between them._ _  
_ _  
  
__  
Alex smiles softly, hand drifting up towards Sam’s chest, hovering right over her heart. “I missed home too much.”  
  
_

 

* * *

  
  
Sam is gone from the couch when she wakes up a few hours later. When she checks the bathroom, she sees it’s been scrubbed clean of blood, making the only proof of the hero’s presence being the crumpled up blanket slung over the back of her couch.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for comments and kudos!


	2. Chapter 2

Kara is livid when she finds out. She invites Alex to Noonan’s a few days later under the guise of having breakfast together, and Alex’s brain is too muddled from a lack of sleep and a fading hangover, courtesy of the unopened bottle of rum that Eliza had given her at Christmas, to realize her true intentions until Kara tricks her into admitting it without thinking.  
  
  
  
“Alex!” she shrieks, once the truth is out. “Why didn’t you tell me you saw Sam again!?”  
  
  
  
Alex jolts at the volume, glaring across the table as multiple pairs of eyes shoot towards them. Kara looks sheepish, reaching up to fiddle with her glasses as she quickly lowers her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she whisper-yells.  
  
  
  
“I just did,” Alex whisper-yells back.  
  
  
  
Kara shoots her an unimpressed look. “No, you just confirmed it after _Lena_ told me.”  
  
  
  
She sighs. She should've known that Lena would tell Kara about it, considering Lena tells Kara everything, intentionally or not. But she hadn’t expected her sister’s _let’s have breakfast_ text to turn into _this_ , and she’s thoroughly regretting her decision to come.  
  
  
  
“She left before I woke up,” she says, shifting in her seat and taking a sip of her coffee. It’s still too hot, the scalding liquid burning it’s way down her throat, but the brief pain is a welcome distraction from the sudden tightness in her chest. “Besides, I’m sure it was just a one time thing, right? I mean, we haven’t talked to each other in months.”  
  
  
  
Kara speaks around a too-large bite of sticky bun, eyebrows furrowing. “Do you want it to be a one time thing?”  
  
  
  
_No._ “It’s not my call.”  
  
  
  
It doesn’t matter that every cell in Alex’s body buzzes at the mere prospect of Sam seeking her out; she’d given her all the space she needed until the other night, but it’s still up to Sam whether or not she wants to see her again.  
  
  
  
[It also doesn't matter that despite everything, Alex finds herself hoping that she does.]

  
  
“Are you… I mean, are you okay?” Kara asks. “What did you guys talk about?”  
  
  
  
She lets her eyes drop down to the table, mind flashing back to the look of raw despair in Sam’s eyes when she talked about the woman she couldn’t save from bleeding out that night. For some reason, telling Kara about it seems like a breach of Sam’s privacy — like a violation of her trust, somehow.  
  
  
  
“Not much,” she says, scratching a chip of splintered wood off the table with her nail. She tries to play it off, make herself seem unaffected, but the tightness in her chest has blossomed into a full-blown ache, spreading down to her stomach. She pushes her coffee away with a grimace.  
  
  
  
"Not much,” Kara echoes in disbelief. “Alex, what if this is your chance to-”

  
  
Alex promptly cuts her off with a sharp, “No,” before she can even finish her sentence. “This isn’t… like that.” 

  
  
“Why not?”  
  
  
  
“What we had before was- she was _vulnerable_ , Kara. She was scared about her blackouts and grateful that I was there for Ruby and- and it wasn’t _real_. It wasn’t… anything. It shouldn’t have been anything.”  
  
  
  
The words leave a bitter taste on her tongue, but she forces herself to say them anyways. Convincing herself that Sam doesn’t still feel what _she_ feels — that what they had was nothing more than the product of a scared woman seeking temporary solace in another — is the only way she’ll be able to let go and move on, even if it hurts.  
  
  
  
Part of it is the truth; it hadn’t _meant_ to be anything, in the beginning. While Alex was still trying to cope with being without Maggie, Sam was battling her own demons, and they had sought each other out for nothing more than sex. A no-strings-attached way of letting out all their pent up stress rather than continuing to keep it all bottled inside.  
  
  
  
That was, until a couple months into sleeping together when the line between being friends with benefits and being something _more_ became blurred, and suddenly it wasn’t just about the sex for either of them.

  
  
Kara stares at her as if she wishes her x-ray vision could see right into Alex’s brain through her skull; it almost makes her grateful that Kara is only Kryptonian and not a telepathic Martian like J’onn. “You don’t really think that, do you?”  
  
  
  
_Of course not._ “It doesn’t matter.”  
  
  
  
“But-”  
  
  
  
“Can we just drop it? Please?” Alex interrupts. Her head is pounding. and she grasps for anything else to talk about. “How’s that article for Snapper going?”  
  
  
  
Kara looks like she wants to say more, but stops herself when Alex shoots her a pointed look. She deflates slightly before reluctantly conceding. “It’s coming along,” she says. “Snapper is as frustrating as always.”  
  
  
  
Alex lets herself relax in her seat, thankful for Kara playing along with the change of topic.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
_“I can’t stay.”_

 

 _The admission is quiet, a whisper against her skin. It’s their last night together and Sam is wearing her cardinal Stanford sweatshirt, nestled in the crook of her neck._ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _I wish you would, she wants to say._ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _“I know,” she says instead._

   


* * *

  
  
  
After the night in her apartment, she doesn’t see Sam for almost another month. She returns to the DEO after her mandatory vacation is up, hoping that being back at work will help her feel somewhat normal again.

 

It does, for the most part, but sometimes she still feels like she’s being watched — except now, the feeling has increased tenfold.

 

She calls Kara up one night, while walking towards the parking garage to her bike. “Are you at home right now?”

 

“W-what do you mean? Of course I’m home. _Alone_. Why wouldn’t I be home?” is Kara’s flustered reply. Alex’s eyes almost roll to the back of her head; Kara is rarely, if ever, a good liar when it comes to spending the night at Lena’s.  
  
  
  
Meaning her suspicions have been confirmed.  
  
  
  
“I thought you might be making sure I got home safe, or something.” Kara hasn’t done that since the whole thing with Rick Malvern, but it was worth a try.  
  
  
  
There’s some shuffling in the background, and another voice saying something to Kara that Alex can’t quite make out. “What? Alex, do you think you’re being followed?” Her concern is evident over the line; knowing her, she’s probably a split second away from tearing open her shirt and flying Alex the rest of the way home herself.  
  
  
  
“It's fine,” Alex is quick to assure her. She almost regrets calling and worrying her for nothing, but she’s not about to just tell Kara she thinks it’s Sam watching her. “Just- forget I said anything.”

  
  
“Are you sure? I can do a fly by, or-”

  
  
Alex cuts her off. “I’m sure. It's probably nothing.”

 

There's a brief moment of hesitance. Then Kara sighs. “Okay. Promise you’ll call me or J’onn if something happens?”  
  
  
  
“I promise… and Kara?”  
  
  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
  
  
“Tell Lena I said hi.”  
  
  
  
She hangs up before Kara can weakly protest about how she’s most certainly _not_ with Lena this late at night, shoving her phone in her back pocket and looking up at the darkened, cloudy sky.  
  
  
  
“You don't have to watch over me,” she says aloud. “I’m a trained federal agent, I can take care of myself.”

  
  
The sky remains still. Whether or not Sam actually heard her is a mystery, but she continues to feel a gaze on her the whole way home. 

   


* * *

  
  
  
She struggles to fall asleep that night. Everything is uncomfortable; her mattress feels too stiff, her blankets suffocating, her pillows lumpy. She can’t turn her mind off long enough, and even the exhaustion from a long, hard day at the DEO isn’t enough to pull her under as the minutes seem to tick by slower than usual.  
  
  
  
In the distance she hears the sharp crack of a police siren in the night and wonders if the world is crashing around her.

   


* * *

  
  
  
_“Would you have done it differently, if you had the chance?”_

 

_She's referring to Maggie and the broken engagement, Alex knows. It’s a loaded question, but one that doesn’t hurt her as much as it used to. As much as it probably should._

 

_“Honestly?” she says, knocking two striped balls into the pocket with practiced ease. “For a while, I was sure I would, but…”_

 

_Sam purses her lips, leaning forward against her pool cue. “But?”_

 

 _Alex looks over. She almost looks hopeful, and it's moments like these where Alex wants to believe, if only for a second, that she might feel the same way. That it's something_ _more than just sleeping together for Sam too. That her affections aren't as one-sided as she thought._ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _“But I like where I am now.”_ _  
  
_

 

* * *

  
  
  
Alex tenses when a hand drops down onto her shoulder, whirling around and twisting the owner’s arm behind their back. What follows immediately after is a series of pained yelps and a glass of beer shattering against the bar floor.  
  
  
  
“Hey, hey, hey! It’s just me!” Winn cries out, scared and in pain. Alex quickly lets go and takes a step back, right into the puddle of beer, as he cradles his arm to his chest and turns around. “Jeez, you’d think you were a trained secret agent or something,” he jokes.  
  
  
  
Alex ignores him. “What are you doing?”  
  
  
  
“I mean-” Winn glances down at his spilled drink forlornly. “I was kinda having a drink by myself, but then I saw you here and thought I’d come say hi. But you went all Agent Danvers on me before I could say anything.”  
  
  
  
Alex frowns. The bottom of her boot is sticky when she lifts it up. “Sorry,” she mutters, motioning to the bartender for another beer.

  
  
“You okay?” Winn asks, and Alex wants to bang her head against the bar.

 

“I’m fine,” she replies, fiercer than she means to. When Winn shrinks back slightly, she sighs. “It's just been a long day.”

 

Winn nods in understanding. He’d been there for the escaped prisoner in the DEO earlier and witnessed her get a little banged up, and then for the mission that had ended as soon as it started because their target had gotten tipped off; it's why she chose to skip out on Girls Night tonight, not in the mood to deal with Lena’s nonstop winning at monopoly and Kara’s low grade whiskey. She’d opted instead to spend her night at the bar, drinking away her misery with high quality scotch, _alone_.  
  
  
  
It seems those plans have been foiled as well.

 

“Yeah, I know. Today was _crazy_ , right? I mean- not that everyday at the DEO isn't crazy, but- you know.” Winn chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.  
  
  
  
“Yeah, it was,” she agrees, seeing his shoulders relax slightly. Pursing her lips, she glances over at a pool table near the corner of the bar, then back at him, making a split second decision. “You down for a game, Schott?” she suggests.  
  
  
  
Winn’s eyes widen, no doubt thinking about the last time he tried to play pool, back when Alex had first officially introduced Maggie as her girlfriend. He’d nearly taken Kara and James’ heads off, then. “Uh, you know, I don’t think-”  
  
  
  
“I’ll teach you,” Alex offers, feeling a sudden surge of… _something_ , in her chest. Fondness, maybe. She shrugs. “It’s only geometry with sticks, right?”  
  
  
  
She feels proud of herself when Winn laughs, his initial nervousness seeming to slip away. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”  
  
  
  
Alex smiles, waiting until he returns it before leading him over to the table and racking up the balls. It's only a few minutes later, after she’s walked Winn through how to correctly hold the cue, that either of them speak again.

 

“Alex?”

 

“Hm?” She’s too busy lining up her shot, tongue poking out slightly as she concentrates on getting the angle just right.

 

“You know she misses you, right?”

 

She misses the shot completely. The white cue ball bounces off the edge of the table without hitting the two she’d been aiming for, rolling shamefully back to the center before coming to a stop. “What?”

 

Winn looks sheepish, as if regretting saying anything at all. He stares intently down at the ground, effectively avoiding her eyes. “Sam,” he explains, as if he thinks he has to. As if he thinks Alex doesn't already know. “She misses you.”

 

Alex blinks. One, two, three times, before she’s able to form a response through the sudden fog that had enveloped her brain. “You talked to her?”

 

If possible, Winn seems to shrink further into himself, face completely red. “I kinda repaired and upgraded her suit,” he explains.

 

Oh.

 

Alex had the thought, briefly, in passing, that Winn might have been the one to fix her suit up for her — make it less like Reign’s and more like _Sam’s_.

 

“Did she say that?” she asks. Not that she cares, or anything. She’s just curious as to whether or not Sam told Winn something as personal as that.

 

Winn pulls on the sleeves of his button down. “Not specifically, no,” he says. “But you can tell.”

 

Somehow, that’s worse.

 

It's not fair, either. It makes her want to punch a wall. It makes her want to scream, to yell at Sam that this is _her_ fault, that _she’s_ the one who left. Not Alex.

 

Winn shuffles awkwardly at her tense silence. “Hey, it's okay if - you know - you miss her too,” he tells her. Gently, in a tone of voice that she’s never heard from him before. “No one is going to judge you for that.”

 

A few long moments pass between them, before Alex surprises herself by stepping forward and enveloping him in a hug. They've only hugged a maximum of two times — once at Christmas when they'd exchanged gifts, and another after the argument with Purity had left her feeling raw and split open. She’d shied away from that one, then, insisting that she was fine, but this time she lets it happen.

 

Winn seems to be more surprised by this than she is, as it takes him a moment to wrap his arms around her waist in return.

 

She blinks hard as she eventually pulls away. She doesn't know why her eyes are stinging. “You tell anyone about this and I’ll break your hand,” she threatens, suppressing the urge to smirk as his eyes widen comically and he stammers an _okay, yep, got it!_    
  
  
  
It’s only when he’s safely back on other side of the pool table, lining up his own shot, that he smiles knowingly at her. “You really are just a big softie on the inside, aren't you?”  
  
  
  
Alex rolls her eyes. “Shut up.”

  
 

* * *

  
  
  
She and Sam finally see each other again on a Monday, in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of National City after the DEO gets a tip about a Fort Rozz escapee hiding out there.

  
  
The reunion is fleeting, but this time, Alex is at least somewhat expecting it. It doesn’t come as a blood-soaked surprise in the middle of the night, but rather, as a black and gold blur that barrels into the giant, scaly alien that has his hand wrapped tightly around her throat.  
  
  
  
It makes sense, for their second meeting to happen like this. Alex isn’t naive enough to believe that the DEO wouldn’t run into the hero during a mission eventually; she had even prepared for it, to an extent, by rehearsing what she would say to Sam, should they find themselves face-to-face once again. She'd been lucky enough that Kara's bad habit of entering before knocking hadn't made an appearance, because Alex doesn't think she'd be able to face the embarrassment of being caught talking to herself in front of the mirror.  
  
  
  
But despite that, preparing for a hypothetical meeting in her head, Alex has realized, is much easier than the real thing.  
  
  
  
She stumbles over a thank you and can’t stop staring at the scuff marks on Sam’s cape, and it’s awkward. Their last meeting is still seared in Alex’s brain, along with how scared she’d been before realizing Sam hadn’t blown her powers and the blood on her suit wasn’t hers, and how badly she had wanted to pull the sadness out of her.  
  
  
  
[That particular feeling hasn’t gone away, and Alex isn’t sure it ever will.]  
  
  
  
“Are you okay?” There’s a weight on her arm, warmth from Sam’s hand seeping through the sleeve of her suit. She nods, and her head pounds near her temples. She can already see in her mind's eye the blue and purple bruises that will form around her throat by morning.

  
  
“I’m good,” she says, but the words come out scratchy and pained, proving otherwise. Sam looks on, concerned, but Alex turns away just as Kara comes barreling into her with a list of questions. _Are you okay? How bad is it? Are you hurt anywhere else?  
  
  
_

Sam is gone by the time she finally finishes fussing, but Alex knows it’s not the last she’ll see of her.  
  
  
  
The next time ends up happening sooner rather than later.

   


* * *

  
  
  
She gets the text while she’s on her early morning jog a few days later, and her heart skips a beat as soon as she reads the contact name on the screen. It shouldn’t surprise her, not really, but it does anyways. Suddenly she feels like there’s a heavy rock in her stomach, sinking down to the bottom.  
  
  
  
**Sam. 5:32am.** _  
_ _Can we talk? Maybe over breakfast?_ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ She stops running. Her mind flashes back to a blood-stained suit and crimson footprints on her bathroom tiles. To cold coffee and an empty couch in the morning. To burning touches and warm brown eyes.

  
  
**Alex. 5:33am.** **  
** _Meet me at Noonan’s in an hour._ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ **Sam. 5:35am.** **  
** _I’ll be there._  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
At such an early hour, Noonan’s is almost empty when Alex walks through the door, save for two other people in a booth near the bar. She spots Sam already sitting at a table in the corner, the nervous tension in her shoulders visible even from afar.  
  
  
  
She looks up as soon as Alex enters. She looks good, _really_ good, and Alex falters for a brief moment when their eyes lock.  
  
  
  
It’s not as if she’d _forgotten_ how beautiful Sam is; it’s just that she doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to it.  
  
  
  
“Hey,” Sam breathes out, standing up. They both hesitate, an awkward few seconds passing before she leans over and wraps her arms around Alex’s shoulders. The hug is over before she can tell her arms to move in order to return it, and Sam sits down with her legs crossed, motioning with her hand for Alex to do the same.  
  
  
  
The small gesture is so professional looking that she can’t help but feel as though she’s meeting with Sam for business. She suspects it comes with helping run a multi-billion dollar company whenever there isn’t an innocent civilian to save; forever stuck in the CFO mindset without even realizing it.  
  
  
  
She wonders why it only makes her adore Sam even more.  
  
  
  
"How's your throat?" Sam asks. The bruises have already started to fade away. If it weren't for the lingering soreness, Alex might have forgotten about it, all too used to getting injured on the job.  
  
  
  
"It's better," she says, shrugging. "Thank you, again. For saving me."   
  
  
  
Sam's expression is hard to read, and Alex isn't expecting it when she says, "I'll always save you."   
  
  
  
The statement is spoken so sincerely that for a moment, Alex feels like she can't breathe. She closes her eyes to keep them from burning, and thinks again that none of this is _fair_. The way Sam has come back so easily. The way she looks at her, the way she _speaks_ to her, saying things like that as if nothing has changed between them _._ Alex wonders if she even realizes the gravity behind everything she does.   
  
  
  
She takes another deep breath and goes to speak. “We should probably-”  
  
  
  
"I wanted to-"  
  
  
  
They both stop talking. Alex scrunches up her nose and Sam lets out a light chuckle, some of the tension slipping away at the awkward fumble. “You go first,” Alex offers.  
  
  
  
The woman across from her nods, lacing her fingers together on the table. “I wanted to apologize… For showing up at your apartment that night. It wasn’t fair and it was _completely_ unwarranted. I had _no_ right to just barge in out of nowhere like I did. And I’m sorry for leaving when you were asleep, again. I'm sorry for…”  She takes a deep breath; Alex waits patiently. “For _leaving_.”  
  
  
  
Alex blows out a breath. So they’re having this conversation _now_ , then.  
  
  
  
“Why did you?” she asks, voice so quiet that Sam might not have heard her if not for her powers.  
  
  
  
It’s startling in it’s vulnerability, it’s brokenness. The last time she can remember sounding like this is during her break-up with Maggie, and even then, she doesn’t recall ever feeling like _this_. Like hearing one wrong word could break her, shatter her completely.  
  
  
  
[Alex has never felt more terrified than she does in this moment.]  
  
  
  
“I…” Sam hesitates, mouth open, eyes flitting around the empty restaurant as though she’ll find the words she’s looking for hiding under the tables, or hanging on the walls. “I was scared.”  
  
  
  
Alex frowns. “Sam, you know you could’ve come to-”  
  
  
  
“No,” Sam cuts her off, almost fiercely — desperately, like if she doesn’t get the words out right now, she never will. “My whole life changed, Alex. Suddenly I had all these new powers, and these horrible memories of… terrorizing the city. Of hurting people. _Killing_ people.”  
  
  
  
She shakes her head when Alex opens her mouth to protest. “And I know you say it wasn’t me, that it was Reign. But it was still _my_ body. _My_ powers. I didn't know who I was anymore. I was so scared, and I needed to get away from everything. I needed to fix myself without…”

 

_Without you._

 

The words don't have to be said for Alex to hear them loud and clear.  
  
  
  
She sits back in her chair, lips pursed. It hurts, but she knows she can’t be mad, not really. Sam was just doing what she felt she had to do — which was fix herself without the extra stress of maintaining a fresh new relationship. Without the crushing guilt she must have felt for how badly Reign had injured multiple DEO agents, how badly she’d injured _Alex._ Without feeling like she would be dragging others down along with her while trying to figure everything out.  
  
  
  
Despite her broken heart, Alex can’t find it in herself to hate her for that.  
  
  
  
“But that’s not… the only reason I wanted to talk to you.”  
  
  
  
She looks up, eyebrows raised in question. Sam hesitates, takes a deep breath, and seems to steel herself for what she’s about to say next.  
  
  
  
“I want you to train me.”  
  
  
  
Suddenly Noonan's feels a lot colder than before. For a long moment, Alex’s brain feels like it’s full of fog. It shouldn’t be this hard to understand; Sam had said the words loud and clear. But Alex still blinks, taken aback.  
  
  
  
“You… what?”  
  
  
  
Sam lays her hands flat on the table, holding Alex’s eye. “I want you to train me,” she repeats. “I can’t do this on my own anymore. I need your help.”  
  
  
  
Logically, it makes sense. In recent news broadcasts, it’s obvious that Sam has been struggling, so painfully overconfident in her powers that she assumes she can take on just about anything. Alex would have to be an idiot not to have expected this to happen eventually — even Kara had made the same brutal mistake when she was first starting out, and to make things worse on Sam’s part, it’s not as if she had thirteen years to get used to having powers on Earth.  
  
  
  
What doesn’t make sense is why Sam would ask _her_ for help. Not when Kara is right there, with the same DNA, the same powers. They’d come from the same planet; if anyone could train Sam the way she needs, it’s Supergirl herself.  
  
  
  
Alex frowns. “Wouldn’t you rather have Kara train you? She’s a Kryptonian too, you two have the same powers-”  
  
  
  
Sam is quick to cut her off. “Yes, we do. But Kara didn't train herself. _You_ trained her, Alex.” She shakes her head, resolute. “There's no one that I trust to help me with this more than you.”  
  
  
  
Well, fuck, okay,  _that’s_ not fair. There’s no question as to whether or not she’ll agree, now, especially not when Sam is looking at her like _that_ , brown eyes so hopeful that Alex would feel like a monster should she try to refuse. Even if she probably would've said yes, anyways, if only because this is _Sam_.  
  
  
  
She bites down on her bottom lip. “Okay."  
  
  
  
Sam’s eyes widen, as if she’s surprised that Alex agreed. She leans forward, and the hopeful look in her eyes intensifies. “Okay?”  
  
  
  
Alex nods. She can't help but think that her mind was made up even before Sam asked the question. “Okay.”

 _  
_ _  
_

* * *

  
  
  
_“Alex?”  
  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _Sam’s hands are like fire under her shirt. They shouldn’t be doing this. They’re_ friends. _They can’t be doing this. “We should stop.”_ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _“Do you_ want _to stop?” Sam asks gently._

 _  
  
_ _There’s a tension in the air between them, and it’s far from awkward or uncomfortable. It’s hot and heavy, and Alex’s heart won’t slow down; she’s sure that Sam can feel her pulse quicken from where her fingertips rest against her skin._ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _Her answer is a heavy exhale. “No.”_ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _“Then what is it?”_

 _  
  
_ _Alex’s heart clenches behind her ribs; she wonders if the other woman knows just how weak she is for her. “I don’t want to lose you,” she admits quietly_ — _softly, in a tone that’s only ever been reserved for Sam._ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _Sam’s breath is hot against her lips, fingertips resuming their path down her tensed abdomen. “You won’t.”  
  
  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist an Alex/Winn brotp and I'm gonna miss him in s4 so yeah expect more of those dorks throughout this story alongside Agentreign.


	3. Chapter 3

“Isn’t that like, your fifth powdered donut?”  
  
  
  
Winn immediately withers under her glare, shrinking back into his chair and swiveling it back around to face the computers. She frowns as he pretends to busy himself with typing something, occasionally stealing worried glances over at her when he thinks she doesn’t notice.   
  
  
  
Stress-eating has always been one of her less desirable habits, right up there with stress-drinking. She thinks that maybe it stuck with her from a past life, or maybe over the years she’d just unconsciously followed in Kara’s footsteps; but even while she’s aware of this fact, she can’t seem to stop herself.   
  
  
  
It doesn’t take Winn long to build the courage back up to ask her another question, right as she starts in on her sixth donut. “What are you so nervous about anyways?”   
  
  
  
Alex’s hand freezes in the air, the donut just a few inches from her mouth. She looks at Winn and sees him watching her intently. “What?”   
  
  
  
He shrugs. “Kara says you like to eat sugary food when you’re nervous about something,” he explains, and Alex sighs, because _of course_ Kara would tell Winn that. “So? What is it?”   
  
  
  
_Sam_ , Alex thinks automatically, but she refuses to admit that to him. She rolls her eyes instead, scoffing. “I’m not nervous,” she lies, before stuffing the rest of the donut into her mouth and looking away. She hopes he believes her, or is at least smart enough to drop the subject completely, but she should’ve known that Winn would never get the hint.   
  
  
  
“Seventh donut,” he points out as she reaches her hand into the bag again.   
  
  
  
Alex fixes him with another hard glare. “Shut up,” she warns him. The threat, however, falls flat when her words are accompanied by a puff of white powder from her mouth. Winn’s eyebrows shoot up in amusement as Alex’s face heats up, looking down and cursing the DEO’s all-black attire as she aggressively brushes the offending powder from her suit.   
  
  
  
She doesn’t want to tell him that the reason she’s so nervous is because Sam is supposed to be coming in for her first training session today. They’d decided that it should be early in the morning, right after she usually drops Ruby off at school, in order to avoid the teenager asking questions. When Alex checks her watch for the millionth time, she sees that their agreed upon time is approaching quickly, giving her only ten more minutes to mentally prepare herself.   
  
  
  
Winn is still looking at her. When Alex glances over at him, he’s wearing an expression similar to the one Kara often gets when she tries to hide something from her. Alex can’t help but think that, frankly, it’s more annoying coming from Winn than it is from the blonde.   
  
  
  
But despite it being annoying, it works. Or maybe she just needs to talk about it with someone. Either way, she blurts the truth out in between bites of her donut. “Sam asked me to train her and she’s supposed to be here in ten minutes.”   
  
  
  
She tries to say it offhandedly, casually, as though it’s no big deal. Which it _shouldn’t_ be. Which it definitely isn’t.  
  
  
  
Winn, however, seems to think otherwise. Eyes bulging, he exclaims, “Whoa, wait, she _what?”_ and stares at her like Alex has gone mad. Unsurprisingly, his dramatic reaction only serves to make her more aware of the pounding of her heart. 

  
  
She shrugs a shoulder, avoiding his eyes. “She asked me to train her.”

  
  
“And you said yes?” Winn asks her, foolishly, as if Alex had the willpower to so much as _try_ to say no. As if there was even a sliver of chance that she would ever deny Sam anything.  
  
  
  
She could’ve had Supergirl herself train her, but she chose _Alex_. That had to mean something, and Alex tells Winn just as much.  
  
  
  
“Well, yeah, I guess you’re right.” He seems to relax some before sitting up again, excited. “And, I mean, hey! Good for you guys, getting together again.”   
  
  
  
Alex visibly flinches at his choice of words, and it takes a whole three seconds for Winn to realize what he said. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he quickly backtracks, stammering, “I mean- not like _that_ , obviously, just- I meant, you know. Hanging out, talking to each other again. Not like getting together romantically or-”  
  
  
  
“Winn,” she cuts off his painful rambling. His mouth snaps shut and he turns away guiltily. Alex blows out a harsh breath and tries to ignore the burning behind her eyelids. She pinches the bridge of her nose and hopes her emotions aren’t as easy to read as she feels like they are. “It’s not… I’m just training her, okay? That’s it.”  
  
  
  
Winn nods. His face is red. “Right,” he agrees, and Alex hopes he actually believes her.  
  
  
  
Sometimes it feels like she’s at war with herself, part of her still clinging stubbornly to the heartbreak while the other part fights to let Sam back in. But Sam had come to her for help, more than once now, and it’s like the need to do so is rooted deep inside Alex already. Sam doesn’t need a fuck buddy, or a girlfriend, or whatever they were before. What she needs is a trainer, and Alex has already decided that she’ll be just that — and _only_ that.  
  
  
  
Even if she has to push away her own feelings of wanting to be _more_ than that, of desperately wishing they could go back to the way they were, in order to do it.  
  
  
  
“Speak of the devil,” Winn mumbles, and her head snaps up just in time to see Sam walk into the command center.   
  
  
  
The first thing Alex notices is that something about her seems… _off_. Her shoulders are hunched over, arms crossed over her chest as she strides towards them quickly, as though she can’t wait to get away from everyone else. Her face is dark, nose slightly scrunched and eyes downcast, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Sam is extremely uncomfortable.   
  
  
  
Alex and Winn exchange a mutual, worried look. “Sam?” she calls out, watching as the woman in question’s face seems to brighten slightly at the sight of her, though she still looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. “You okay?”   
  
  
  
A brief wave of doubt washes over Alex, and she quickly wonders if this is a bad idea. But before she can voice these thoughts aloud, Sam seems to shake herself out of it, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before flashing Alex a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, yes. Sorry, it’s just…” She inhales deeply. “Just remembering the last time I was here.”  
  
  
  
Right. The last time she was here, it was right after the split from Reign and she’d just woken up from a week-long coma, having to face the reality of all the Worldkiller had done. Alex supposes that’d be a raw nerve for just about anybody.  
  
  
  
“Well, hopefully we can make some better memories here,” she suggests, before cringing internally at the way that might sound. _Stupid_.   
  
  
  
Shaking her head, she ignores Winn’s knowing look as she walks past him towards one of the long hallways leading to the training rooms. “You coming?” she asks, after realizing that Sam is still standing awkwardly in the command center.  
  
  
  
Almost immediately, her dull mood seems to shift, and she follows Alex eagerly into one of the only training rooms with Kryptonite emitters. “So you trained Kara in here?” she asks as she shuts the door behind them, looking around at the large room that will soon be glowing a light green.  
  
  
  
Alex heads straight for a pair of punching mitts, strapping them onto her hands. Sam eyes the mitts curiously. “I want to practice your punching before we actually start to spar together,” she explains, then answers her earlier question. “And no, this isn’t where I trained Kara. The DEO has another base in the desert. That’s where we’ll work on your flying.”   
  
  
  
“My flying?” Sam asks, looking slightly chagrined. “What’s wrong with how I fly?”  
  
  
  
Alex bites back a smile at the sudden defensiveness in her tone. “We just need to assess your full speed,” she says. “Plus, it’ll help to see how well you can catch and dodge certain things while in the air. Have you used your heat vision at all since the split?”   
  
  
  
Sam shakes her head, then stops halfway through, tilting her head. “Only once,” she answers. At Alex’s raised eyebrow, she clarifies. “I was running late getting Ruby to school. The waffles were taking too long.”   
  
  
  
“Right,” Alex can’t help but smile. “Well, you’ll need to feel comfortable using it for more than just cooking, along with your ice breath. We’ll work on those too.”   
  
  
  
Sam nods along to all of this, looking more and more intrigued. Her earlier discomfort seems to be melting away, morphing into excitement. Alex claps the mitts together and motions for Sam to switch on the Kryptonite emitters. Just like Kara, she’ll need to learn to fight even while her strength is dimmed significantly. “You ready?”  
  
  
  
Sam’s next nod is an eager one. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Over the next week, Alex slowly but surely incorporates their training sessions into her daily routine.   
  
  
  
The eagerness that Sam had shown the first day dwindles quickly. By their third session, as they finally start sparring, Alex can tell that she’s still holding back too much, not putting as much force behind her strikes as she’s capable of. She moves stiffly, too tense and cautious, and Alex takes her down each time with an ease that shouldn’t be possible, even with the Kryptonite emitters switched on halfway.

  
  
“You’re pulling your punches,” she says, after easily blocking one particular hit aimed for her jaw. 

  
  
She doesn’t mean it to be accusatory, but Sam huffs, and Alex can tell she’s frustrated. She paces the mat as Alex suggests they take a break, dropping down onto the bench and taking greedy gulps of water.   
  
  
  
Only one of them is covered in sweat and breathing hard. Alex’s light grey sports bra had turned a darker shade only twenty minutes in. The first time they went at it, she hadn’t been too surprised to find that in the hour they’d already been training, Sam had yet to break a sweat or express the need to catch her breath.   
  
  
  
“Why are you pulling your punches?” Alex asks, looking up at her.   
  
  
  
Sam stops pacing and meets her eye, blowing out a harsh breath. “I don’t know.”   
  
  
  
“Bullshit.”   
  
  
  
Sam glares at her, but there’s no real malice behind the look, only frustration that Alex knows is aimed more at herself than anyone else. Alex sets her water bottle down and stands up, walking the three steps towards Sam and crossing her arms across her chest. “You’re too scared,” she says. It’s not a question, but a statement, one that Sam scoffs at.   
  
  
  
“I’m not _scared_ -”   
  
  
  
“Yes, you are. You’re scared you’re going to punch me too hard, right? That you’re going to hurt me?” At the subtle clench of Sam’s jaw, Alex knows she’s right. She nods slowly, lips pursed. “Okay. I can’t help you if you don’t work to your full potential.”   
  
  
  
Sam looks to the floor. Her shoulders are tense, and Alex wishes she could somehow pull the fear out of her. “I know,” she says, shaking her head. “I know, you’re right. I’ll try to stop.”   
  
  
  
Alex nods. “Good,” she says, and then motions for Sam to get back into position.   
  
  
  
For the first few minutes, fighting her feels almost like fighting Kara. Although Sam is still a lot stronger than Kara, even with the Kryptonite emitters on, it’s still familiar, sparring with someone whose punch feels like getting hit by a car.   
  
  
  
But unlike with Kara, Alex’s body hums at the feeling of getting up close and personal with Sam. It doesn’t help in the least that she already knows what Sam’s body feels like against hers, in a much different _,_ more _intimate_ way. She’s still haunted by the lingering memories of Sam’s hot breath against her skin, of Sam’s hands exploring every inch of her body. Although the distraction of fighting helps to take her mind off it somewhat, her body still reacts naturally to being so close to someone so _familiar_ .   
  
  
  
Nevertheless, she tries to ignore these feelings as they spar, focusing intently on blocking Sam’s strikes and catching her off guard. When Sam’s leg comes up for a roundhouse kick, Alex swiftly ducks under it, and for a split second she foolishly thinks she’s in control until Sam’s other leg connects with her shin, sweeping her feet right out from under her.   
  
  
  
Alex hits the mat with a thud, a gasp of surprise escaping her lips as she realizes what just happened. Sam has her pinned down to the mat, forearm pressed against her throat.   
  
  
  
Their legs are tangled together, chests heaving, and Sam’s face is inches from her own. Alex swallows hard and then clears her throat, feeling awkward and _way_ more turned on than she should be; she can feel her face heating up at the sheer proximity of their bodies, mentally cursing hers for its natural, biological reactions that insist on making an appearance at the _worst possible time._ _  
_   
  
  
Suddenly, all she can think about is how easy it would be to just flip them over and have her way with Sam. Her mind flashes back to a time before Sam left, when they were just starting this… _thing_ , between them, and how nervous she’d been. She remembers the heat between them, the _need_ . She wants that again — wants to hear Sam cry out her name, wants to feel Sam’s body writhe underneath her, wants to see Sam’s eyes roll back in her head as she —   
  
  
  
_No,_ she scolds herself. _You’re Sam’s trainer and nothing more._ _  
_   
  
  
“That was good,” she finally manages to croak out, once Sam’s removed her forearm from her throat. A wide, proud smile stretches across the brunette’s face, and Alex can’t help the way her brain momentarily glitches at the sight.   
  
  
  
“I took you down,” Sam boasts, sitting up on her knees. It abruptly dawns on Alex that Sam is still straddling her, and suddenly the floor feels much harder against her back, the training room warmer than ever. She clears her throat again, as Sam starts to roll her shoulders and move her head in what Alex assumes is supposed to be a type of victory dance. It’s the dorkiest thing she’s ever seen. “I just pinned badass Agent Danvers of the DEO.”   
  
  
  
“See? I told you, you can do it if you stop holding yourself back,” Alex reminds her.   
  
  
  
“Or,” Sam says, pressing her index finger into Alex’s chest. “You’re just weak.”   
  
  
  
Alex purses her lips, biting back a smile. Her face and neck burn as if her skin is on fire, and she can’t find it in herself to respond anymore to Sam’s teasing, too distracted by the feeling of Sam _literally_ sitting on top of her. Then, somewhere to their right, a phone alarm goes off, and the loud, incessant beeping manages to finally shake her out of her stupor.   
  
  
  
“Shit!” Sam scrambles off of her, jumping up and rushing for her bag on the bench. “I have to be at work in five minutes.”   
  
  
  
Alex pushes herself up, pointedly ignoring the dull ache between her thighs that wasn’t there before they started sparring. “Well, it’s a good thing you can fly then,” she points out, earning a small laugh and a smile from Sam as she packs up her things. She can still feel the lingering buzz of arousal under her skin, and tries to shake it off as she switches the Kryptonite emitters off.   
  
  
  
“Thank you,” Sam says as she always does after a training session, so soft and genuine that Alex feels her cheeks warm slightly. “I’ll see you next time?”   
  
  
  
Alex nods in confirmation. “Yeah.”   
  
  
  
When she leaves a few minutes later, dressed back into her work clothes and flashing one last grateful smile over her shoulder, Alex can’t do anything but drop her head into her hands and groan.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
_“Sam, baby, you have to listen to me. You have to fight against her. Please.”_ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _Alex can hear the desperation seeping into her own voice as she pleads. She’s only buying time anyways, she knows, but it’s still worth a shot._ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _Despite her efforts, Reign’s eyes remain a dark, ominous red, boring into her own. The hand wrapped around her throat only tightens. “Sam,” she manages to choke out, the sound cracked and strained. “Please, come back to me. To Ruby.”_ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _That seems to do the trick, if only for a second. Reign — Sam’s — eyes flicker. Once, then twice, flashing from glowing red to warm brown. But the attempt to bring Sam back on her own proves to be fruitless as they settle back on red. Alex can feel her lungs start to scream, tears of both pain and desperation starting to roll down her face._ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _Then she sees Lena burst in out of the corner of her eye, right on time._   
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Hanging out at the bar with Winn starts to become a regular thing. This time, Kara tags along with them, and Alex can almost pretend that their presence is slowly starting to help fill the void in her chest.  
  
  
  
It’s only fitting, then, that she manages to run into the one person that’s the cause for said void.   
  
  
  
She walks up to order another round of drinks, and she doesn’t notice it’s Sam sitting alone at first, not until she’s ordered and the woman in question looks up at the sound of her voice. Despite seeing her just the other day during training, Alex’s heart skips a beat at the sight of her, as it always seems to do. A part of her wishes for that particular reaction to stop, but another part of her knows that it won’t.   
  
  
  
“Alex!” Sam seems surprised by her being here. She’s nursing a glass of her own, and Alex can already guess why she's here having a drink by herself, having already heard from Kara earlier about the collapsing building and the few civilians they weren’t able to get out in time.   
  
  
  
“You know,” she says, “I can’t remember the last time you stepped foot in this place without me having to drag you inside.”   
  
  
  
Sam chuckles bitterly. “Yeah, well. This is the only bar that sells the one drink that’ll get me even remotely buzzed,” she explains, holding up her glass of aldebaran rum. Alex nods in understanding; Kara had ordered the same thing. Then Sam asks, “Do you- Do you want to sit?”   
  
  
  
Alex falters. “Actually, I’m here with Winn and Kara,” she says. Clearing her throat, she jabs a thumb in the direction of where they’re seated, looking over her shoulder to see them both watching their interaction intensely, only snapping their heads back when they catch Alex looking back at them. She rolls her eyes.   
  
  
  
Sam avoids looking her in the eye as she asks her next question. “Oh. Well, then maybe we could have drinks together another time? You know, as friends,” she’s quick to add.   
  
  
  
“Oh,” Alex says. She frowns and scratches the back of her neck, feeling awkward. “Sam, I… I don’t think that’d be such a good idea.”   
  
  
  
Sam’s eyebrows furrow. Her expression is a mix of confusion and hurt. “I just thought-”   
  
  
  
Alex looks away from her, choosing instead to watch the bartender make their drinks. “Look, Sam. We train together, okay? And in the field, we may even work together. But outside of the DEO, we’re not...”   
  
  
  
_Friends._ The word is on the tip of her tongue. While she may not hate Sam for leaving, the heartbreak still sits heavy in her chest, and she can’t seem to shake it off just yet. She can train with Sam, sure, and work with her during missions if her help is required. But Alex’s feelings for her haven’t dwindled in the slightest, and being friends will only add fuel to the fire; for now, the best course of action is keeping their relationship strictly professional.   
  
  
  
She doesn’t need to finish her sentence, because Sam nods solemnly, eyes downcast. “Right. We just work together. I shouldn’t have expected anything more.”   
  
  
  
Alex sighs, hearing the pain in Sam’s voice. Her heart clenches, knowing she’s the reason for it. She remembers Winn’s words from the first night they hung out at the bar — _“You know she misses you, right?”_ — and feels guilt bubble up in her chest. “Hey, you know it’s not-”   
  
  
  
“No, Alex, you’re right, I overstepped. I’ll leave you be. Tell Winn and Kara hello for me.”   
  
  
  
Then she’s gone, and Alex is left standing alone by the bar, feeling like the worst person on earth.   


 

* * *

  
  
  
_Time seems to be moving in slow motion._   
  
  
  
_She’s running, stumbling and tripping over the rubble, crashing through a thick grey wall of smoke and dust. Her throat is bruised, there’s a deep gash above her eyebrow, and the metallic taste of blood is strong on her tongue, but she doesn’t stop, ignoring J’onn’s commands to stand back._ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _All she can see is Sam sitting among the debris. Reign, still clad in her suit and mask, lays a few feet away, unmoving. But that’s not what Sam is looking at._ _  
_ _  
_ _  
  
Instead she’s looking at the agents scattered among the rubble, at the civilians crouching behind cars and watching, horrified, from inside of the surrounding buildings. Her eyes are fixated on the bloodshed, the terror, the crimes that Reign had committed with her body. _ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _Pain bursts in Alex’s knees when she drops down next to Sam. She ignores it, arms immediately reaching out to wrap around Sam’s shoulders and pull her close. The other woman looks up, bloody and broken, and for a moment she seems to stare right through Alex without even seeing her._ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _Then her anguish-filled eyes seem to focus, locking onto Alex’s own. Suddenly her body seems to get heavier in Alex’s arms, and she knows even before it happens that Sam’s going to pass out._ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _“Alex?” she whispers brokenly._ _  
_ _  
  
  
_ _The sound makes Alex’s entire chest hurt. “I’m here,” she assures her, just before Sam’s eyes slip shut and her head falls limply against Alex’s shoulder._ _  
_ _  
_ _  
  
_

* * *

  
  
  
“Ah, Director J’onzz. Agent Danvers. Just the people I was looking for, actually.”  
  
  
  
Alex looks up at the familiar voice, accompanied by the clacking of heels against the DEO floor. Lena Luthor, in all her glory, approaches them with an air of what could almost be called desperation. Her tone of voice and mere presence in the DEO immediately gives away that something is wrong, and Alex straightens up, frowning. It’s been surprisingly quiet the past week, but the CEO’s sudden presence has alarm bells going off in Alex’s head.   
  
  
  
“Miss Luthor,” J’onn greets, but despite his calm composure, Alex can tell he is just as concerned as she is at the surprise visit from the billionaire. “This is unexpected, to say the least.”   
  
  
  
Lena’s eyes drag away from J’onn to look at Alex, who tenses up even further under her stare. She clears her throat, arms crossed. “Lena,” she says in greeting.   
  
  
  
“Alex,” Lena responds. Her expression is serious, lips tight and eyebrows furrowed. Alex and J’onn exchange a look before Alex speaks up again.   
  
  
  
“Lena, what’s going on?”   
  
  
  
Lena’s eyes slide back to J’onn this time, and the barely concealed panic that flashes across her features for half a second almost makes Alex take a step back. “I’m afraid we need to talk, Director,” she says. “It’s about my mother.”


End file.
